


Never Again

by thekingsparty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (like on 11.14), .this is a WIP, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crowley/Dean - Freeform, Crowley/Sam, Humiliation, Hurt Crowley, I honestly can't say yet how it'll unfold, M/M, Master/Pet, Torture, basically i'm working through my feels, but also go AU, or - Freeform, this will contain spoilers for 11.14 and following, this will either turn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingsparty/pseuds/thekingsparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(UPDATE Apr. 03 2017 - This fic has not been dropped, just have been dealing with writer's block esp. for Crowley, but 12x15 fixed that, so will be updating asap. )<br/>What happened to Crowley in those  weeks with Casifer? What happened to make him flinch and shudder? What's going on in his treasonous little head? And how does he get out? WHAT HAPPENS?? (And the saga continues: I suck at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm back, baby.

**Author's Note:**

> This'll be dark, okay? I mean for those who know my fanfics, you're warned. I can't do without dark stuffs. XD But yeah. I had to dive deeper into Casifer/Crowley. It obviously is non-con, so beware. Torture will follow, too. So, only read if that's alright. :D
> 
> Also yes, I'm using a new program to write in, so if something appears to be messed up or I'm missing parts of sentences, yell at me and I'll fix it. I'm still getting the hang of it. 
> 
> Next chapter should be uploaded in a day or two.

[ ](http://imgur.com/icTZxpt)

 

“Mother. Why do you hate me?”  
“I hate you, because when I look into your eyes I see the woman I used to be, before magic, before the coven. When I was nothing but Rowena, the tanner's daughter. A pale, scared little girl, who smelled of filth and death. I hate you, because when you were born, your father said he loved me, then he went back to his grand wife and his grand house, whilst I lay pathetic and half dead on a straw mat -- my thighs slick with blood.”  
A short pause as Rowena leaned in.  
“I hate you… because if I didn’t… _I’d love you_.

  
                                  But love, love is weakness. And I'll never be weak again.”  
   
   
Those were.. the last words Crowley remembered. After that? After he’d felt his heart sink (and it wasn’t even **HIS** heart to be correct), everything went by in a haze.  
Castiel stumbled back in, only.. it wasn’t Castiel and his mother? She’d been working with him all along. Of course he’d kill her. Of course, he’d take the one person who denied she cared for him, but actually did in some abstract self-defensive-denial-way away from him. And of course he’d kill her right after… after Crowley finally knew the truth.

  
_He was weak._

  
He knew he was, but even if he hadn’t been.. nothing would’ve changed. The situation would be the exact same. He’d still be pinned up against that wall, surprised to see Lucifer alive… with another vessel than anybody probably had expected and he would _still_ fear for his life. He knew he wasn’t exactly… Lucifer’s best friend. Or.. his friend. Or even someone he tolerated. Or.. didn’t resent.

  
“Lucifer…?”

  
And the worst was Crowley couldn’t even blame him. He’d betrayed him (for justified reasons, though) and helped lock him up, had taken over _his_ throne and.. he wasn’t even sorry. Why should he be? He wanted to live, just like everybody else. Why was that bad? Why did he deserve to die for wanting to live?  
Alright, he probably could’ve done it differently. He could’ve.. waited for Lucifer to be locked up again and _then_ claim the throne since **NOBODY ELSE** could. He could’ve done with a lot less treason, but hey, nobody was perfect, right?

  
“Let’s chat.”

  
And that was all it took for his blood to freeze in his veins, a silent shudder rising up his spine. His breath coming in sharp little gasps with being _forced_ against the wall in a none too gentle way.  
   
“I can _explain_.” The demon gasped, fear obvious in his eyes despite him trying to appear calm and.. collected. His body wasn’t cooperating. But he couldn’t blame it. **ARCHANGEL** ahead.  
   
“Is that so?” The angel tilted his head to the side, an amused, wide grin on his face as he stepped closer.  
   
“Yes. I.. someone had to secure your _Kingdom_ while you were gone… sir.”  
   
“Oh and that someone was _you?_ ” The angel spat, head tilting left and right as he swayed softly, “And that’s why you sided with the Winchesters even _before_ I was back in the Cage? Oh, and why didn’t you try release me, hm?”  
   
“I… I didn’t know how. I had to _sell_ it. Or they would’ve come to hunt **ME** instead.” He hissed softly, as if it was the most reasonable reason.. he could reason with. Everybody had reasons, right?  
   
The angel closed the distance and a hand wound around the demon’s neck, squeezing uncomfortably tightly. “I can _smell_ it on you. Lies, lies, lies. That’s **ALL** there is to you.”  
   
Crowley gasped and gurgled, his hands twitching but not moving against the invisible bindings. “L—Lucifer—!“  
   
His grip tightened for a split-second, threatening to crush the demon’s windpipe. “Would you like to rephrase that?”  
   
“S—sir.” Crowley spluttered, sweat dampening his hair, forehead creased. “Killing me won’t do you –- good.”  

“It will be satisfactory, though.” The Devil smirked and Crowley felt sick to his stomach watching the face of the angel twist and shift into grimaces Castiel would _never_ allow.  
  
“Please—wait.” The (former) King of Hell croaked, gasping for breath once the other’s grip loosened and all that held him upright was the same hand around his throat, his legs wobbly and shaking.  
  
“Now that’s a _lot_ ” The angel wearing the wrong face hummed. “Now, speak.”  
  
“Wouldn’t.. it be smarter to punish me for _everybody_ to see?” Oh he was digging his own grave alright, but did he have another choice? Not really. It was die or.. die slowly. He knew which he preferred. Crowley wasn’t one to give up. He didn’t surrender. He’d fought too hard for **ALL THIS** to just die and lose it all.  
  
The angel’s eyes lit up and a sick smile tugged on his lips. Crowley would’ve liked to look away, but he couldn’t and he figured squeezing his eyes shut wouldn’t help his cause. “Punishment?”  
  
“Whatever it is you – believe I deserve, s—sir.”  
  
“Master.”  
  
Crowley looked at the other, lips parted in hushed little breaths.  
  
“That’s what you’ll call me.” A nod. Oh yes, he liked that. “You shall be punished, just like you _begged_ me to.” A chuckle. “On your _knees_.”  
  
Crowley... obeyed. Right now it was in his best interest to play along. Once he could be sure Lucifer enjoyed this far too much for him to kill him, Crowley could _challenge_ his authority to regain his pride. He had it all planned out.  
  
“That’s a good doggie.” The angel chirped, an amused laugh following. The hand formerly around the demon’s throat now found his hair, first petting softly, then tugging hair until said demon yelped. “You’ll _stay_ on your knees.” His voice actually sounded a little darker now, similar to Castiel’s but not close enough for him to _hope_. “I’ve got a brilliant idea.” He mused, slowly letting go of his hair again, trusting the demon dog to keep his head up to look at him. He’d made that clear when he pulled his hair, didn’t he?  
  
“M—master?” He hesitated and winced at the first (of many) kicks to his ribs.  
  
“You don’t speak unless I give permission, understood?”  
  
Crowley nodded, “Yes… sir.”  
  
“Wonderful. And now you’ll follow me to dress you up nicely.” He said, a low and subtle threat hanging in the air as he spoke, accompanying every word that left his lips. The angel didn’t wait for long before sauntering out of the room he’d found Crowley and Rowena in, to let his nose lead him to the throne room.  
  
Crowley watched the other move, swallowing hard before pushing himself to his feet to follow. He grunted when something pulled him down face-first. “I told you to _stay_ on your knees. Like a doggie.” The demon growled softly, shooting the other a glare he immediately regretted. Lucifer turned around and grabbed a fistful of hair again to tug him after him as he walked.  
And Crowley couldn’t do anything but follow along as best as he could until let go what felt an eternity later. He flopped to the floor and wheezed, scrambling to sit back on his haunches.  
  
“Now let’s see….” Lucifer collapsed into _Crowley’s_ throne with an amused grin scarring his face. He snapped his fingers once and Crowley’s suit was replaced with beige cargo trousers, a shirt with some logo Crowley couldn’t quite define on and to round it up, a blue Hawaiian shirt. He sneered at the sight, feeling all the more intimidated with every second that passed. Lucifer was too strong. He needed a plan. He needed.. an opening. Something. He thought that was it for now, but he shouldn’t underestimate _the Devil_ after all. The only person who knew how to properly **TORTURE** and **HUMILIATE** every single creature walking the earth, although Crowley had to admit he didn’t exactly keep his likes and dislikes secret.  
  
Then, another snap sounded and Crowley swallowed against cold iron wound tightly around his throat. _A collar_. Why? What was it with collars, hm? He had to admit the one the Winchesters had put him in had looked a lot nicer. And it didn’t have spikes, like.. a dog’s collar. Then again, he did catch the drift. Hah. Funny.  
  
“Ah, that’s better. Now will you behave or do I need to lock you up, hm?”  
  
“Depends, --sir.”  
  
The angel quirked a brow in annoyance. “Bark.”  
  
Crowley’s upper lip twitched in disgust and he hissed softly.  
  
“I see you’ve made your decision.”  
  
And now he was standing again, sauntering over to where Crowley kneeled, suddenly unable to move _away_ so he could grab him by his hair a third time to drag him to the closest wall. And Crowley didn’t know _why_ there was already a gate.  
Maybe Lucifer had tricked him into agreeing to this. Maybe he’d never planned to let him die a quick, painful death. Maybe he wanted him to live a life in shame. Or maybe he’d done that while dressing him in those ridiculous clothes, he honestly didn’t know. What he did know was that he wouldn’t see the outside of it for a while. Once kicked inside, the collar fastened to an anchor on the floor and his wrists cuffed, the gate slammed shut.  
  
All he heard before the lights went off was the angel’s bright laughter.  
  
**“Bollocks.”**


	2. A new life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casifer starts obedience training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING.  
> Torture. Pain. Blood. Hurt. All that. Not that I uh, write it all that well, but it is THERE. Careful if torture triggers you. :)  
> Also the sigil that's mentioned is the one Crowley carved into Brady's chest to keep him from smoking out.

[ ](http://imgur.com/lzSJbfw)

 

**Small, confined places.**

Not exactly Crowley’s favourites, but then again he could imagine worse. There always was a worse alternative and with Lucifer, he didn’t dare imagine what else he had in store for him. The first few days hadn’t been that bad. Then again, he’d just been locked up.

Nothing more than that. Some knocking against the iron gate, some taunting, but no more than that. It was almost worse than being actively tortured. He was _bored_. Not that he wasn’t used to being bored by now (Being King was **boring**.), but he just.. _what the Hell was he supposed to do in here?_

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak (He had been gagged after a few unsuccessful tries to start conversation.) and he barely had enough space to lie down. It was dirty and cold, but that was the least of his problems. He tried to _think_.

There had to be a way out. Some chance to get those cuffs off and run. He didn’t need a lot of time, just.. some. Some opportunity to break free and get out of this place. Then, he’d gladly never see the Devil ever again.

He knew Lucifer _would_ start doing something at some point. He had to or breaking Crowley wasn’t going to happen. Not that it’d happen in the first place. Breaking Crowley? Pft. He’d been tortured for centuries. Taken apart limb by limb, day in day out. Although he had to admit, imminent death had never been on the plate before. Now.. now he knew Lucifer could (and would) kill him if he felt like it. So it was in his best interest to not let that happen.

No matter what it was he would have him do. Crowley did still have his pride, but.. he didn’t know if survival didn’t come first. His survival instinct was and always would be pretty strong. He’d been through enough crap to not want to die now. Why suffer all your bloody life to then die? That just didn’t make sense, did it? He deserved **MORE** than this. A lot more if you asked him.

It was another few days until he was dragged out of the kennel by the leash to his collar and kicked to kneel by Lucifer’s feet. 

“How’s my little doggie today?” Came the bright (and utterly annoying) voice of their new-but-only-temporary King of Hell.

“Doing well, thank you. Though I wouldn’t complain if one of your little treacherous minions ended up delivering some Craig to my lovely kennel. And maybe a pillow.” He shrugged nonchalantly, the chain rustling as he moved.

Lucifer stood, circling Crowley first before he kicked him in the ribs with a satisfied grunt. He’d imagine Castiel only ever made noises like that when he saved some bloody bird with a broken wing. Or.. caught Dean Winchester naked in the shower. Crowley took the kick with pride, swallowing the pain to keep up the obvious grin that had his cheeks puffy. He could’ve known the Devil wouldn’t like that. And he could’ve known there’d be more kicks.

 _Castiel_ looked as if he’d break out in sweat any moment now and Crowley cringed, arms wrapped around his middle. When the angel was done, he strolled back to sit on _Crowley’s_ throne and the demon slowly glanced up, wiping sweat from his brows with one arm while the other still held his stomach and side.

With a deep breath, Lucifer spoke again. “So, I’m asking again. How is my little doggie today?” And his voice was sweet and gentle again as if he hadn’t spent the last 7.5 minutes kicking the _shit_ out of someone else.

“A little less.. well. Although, now I’d rather take that pillow. Alcohol can wait.” Crowley wouldn’t help himself. He just.. couldn’t.

The archangel sighed. ~~Wait, what? He _sighed?_~~ Crowley frowned a little, shooting him a relatively harmless glare. Then, the other stood once more and moved to stand in front of him again, this time grabbing a handful of hair to **PULL**.

Crowley shouted in surprise and pain, sitting back on his haunches to follow the tug upwards and ease up on the used strength. Believe it or not, he liked his hair and he’d like to keep some of it.

“I can keep going all day, you filthy traitor. You’ve forgotten your place, haven’t you?” The angel hissed through gritted teeth.

“I took what I **DERSERVED**. I worked for it.” Crowley hissed right back and that earned him a slap to the face. He spluttered forward and caught himself on his hands, quickly pulled a hand to his side to protect his ribcage again when he saw Lucifer’s leg swing. The demon fell to his side so the second boot collided with his stomach this time. A few followed, harder and Crowley spat blood, grunting softly.

“Hold him down.” Lucifer hissed, nodding to a few of his demons around them, watching the scene partly in horror, some in amusement.

Two demons came up to grab Crowley’s arms and legs, but two more joined them, so each of them took hold of one limb, keeping his hands and feet pressed up against the floor. Crowley sputtered and wheezed, fighting the death grip they had on him. “Don’t you dare let go.” The archangel growled, eyes glowing in warning and the demons swallowed hard, holding Crowley a little tighter even.

The former King of Hell was helpless against them, so he just focused on his breathing and tried to ignore on-coming fear about what was going to follow. There was nothing he hadn’t tried yet. There was nothing he hadn’t tried yet. _There was nothing he hadn’t tried yet_.

And yet, when Lucifer stepped into his sight again and snapped his shirts away, he didn’t expect the next hour to end up pleasant. Not at all. He drew his angel blade and leaned down to crouch over Crowley’s torso.

“Need to make sure you can’t smoke out even when you’re not caught in one of the numerous Devil’s Traps I put up around here, hmm?” Crowley knew this wasn’t Castiel, the naiive little angel, but he still couldn’t help sneering at the sight of his face. “And.. let’s add insurance, too. I wouldn’t want you to recover _too_ quickly from our little sessions. Where’s the fun in that, right?”

And now he stood again, a foot to Crowley’s crotch, pressing down **HARD**. The demon winced, legs trying to pull in despite being held. He squirmed and whimpered softly.

“Didn’t hear that.”

“Yes… sir.”

“Splendid.” the Blade was facing Crowley’s chest now and once it came down on his skin, Crowley was groaning and screaming as the Devil carved not only a rather large sigil between collar bones and belly, but also a few smaller ones. Old, old runes only a handful of people could read and understand. He wiped the blade before letting it disappear inside of his sleeve again. Then, he snapped Crowley’s new clothes back on, dance-walking back to the throne.

Crowley’s hair was soaked in sweat, his chest rising and falling quickly and even when let go, he didn’t move. Well, he did .. a little. Arms and legs came in and he curled up on his side, his body shuddering softly. _He wasn’t healing_. Why. Why wasn’t he healing?

 

_“Welcome to your new life, doggie.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank youuuu!! I'd love some comments <3 I do realize the chapters are short, but I'm hoping to be able to update more often that way. :D

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU! I'd appreciate comments!! <3


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